


Indirect Kiss

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 12:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12211212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Someonekeeps stealing Ignis' lip balm, and he only ever does it when he's sick.





	Indirect Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aipenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aipenguin/gifts).



Ignis couldn’t find his lip balm. He used an expensive kind—not any of the medicinal ones that smelled bad, but something of high quality with a pleasing scent. At its price, he didn’t misplace it. As a rule, he seldom misplaced things. It always went back into a little compartment in his briefcase, along with a tube of even more costly lotion. 

After fighting a losing battle with acne during puberty, he took time to care for his skin. His lips were no exception, and the balm he preferred left them feeling silky to the touch. 

But there was someone who didn’t use balm except under dire circumstances. A person who often allowed his lips to get chapped, whose skin survived on the moisturizer he patted on his face once every morning. 

“Noctis, have you seen my lip balm?”

The figure huddled in a blanket on the sofa set down his game controller and pulled the tube from out of his pocket.

Noctis only ever used lip balm when he was feeling under the weather—when his lips chapped, his nose ran, and he had all the other symptoms of a cold or flu.

Ignis sighed. “How long have you been sick?”

“Day before yesterday,” came the nasally reply. “Wasn’t so bad ‘til last night.”

Ignis’ lip balm had been missing for a day. After this, he didn’t want it back. “Noct…”

He pulled out a saucepan and rummaged through the fridge and cabinets to find ingredients to make a soup. A hearty dose of vegetables would have done Noctis some good, but Ignis didn’t dare reach for them—not that there were any to be found in the apartment. 

“You don’t have to do that,” said the lump from the sofa. The game system had been shut off, and Noctis huddled closer to the corner of the furniture, half lying down. 

“You sound miserable, Noct.”

“I _am_ miserable.” 

“I’ll see what I can do to make you feel better.” 

Ignis waited until the meat and noodles were simmering in a broth before he stepped away to check the medicine cabinet. Upon opening it, Ignis sighed and despaired. Half the boxes were empty. The ones that weren’t had expired, as had the drops. Worst of all, the cough syrup had tipped over and leaked, creating a sticky, smelly spill across the shelf. Someone—likely Noctis—hadn’t quite put the lid back all the way.

Ignis cleaned it up before he returned to the kitchen. He eased the soup off the heat and poured some into a small bowl. He refilled a glass of water, too, and set them on the coffee table in front of Noctis.

“I’m going to the pharmacy,” said Ignis. “If you can’t eat much, at least drink something.”

Noctis smiled up appreciatively and reached for the water.

Noctis had always been terrible at telling people he was sick. Being ill meant bedrest—a death sentence for a small child who wanted nothing more than to play. His meals were brought to him in bed back then, sometimes cutting into the few times he could possibly see his father. And Noctis had never liked people fussing over him.

Well. Noctis didn’t mind asking Ignis for assistance, but that was a part of their relationship that neither of them had ever disliked.

The trip to the pharmacy at the corner didn’t take Ignis long. He grabbed a packet of decongestants and a packet of lemon tea with ginger. He bought one extra item—another tube of his favorite lip balm. By the time he returned, Noctis was dozing with his head tilted against the back of the sofa, mouth hanging open for breath. Not a flattering sight, but Ignis felt sorry for him. His Noctis was drowning in mucus and misery. 

Ignis brewed the tea before he woke up Noctis. 

“You can rest again after you’ve taken some medicine,” said Ignis, pressing two pills and the mug of tea into Noctis’ hands. “And I recommend using your bed. It would be far better for your back.”

“Can’t breathe when I lie down,” Noctis grumbled before he popped the pills and sipped them down. He made a face against the sour flavor—though Ignis had given it a bit of a sweetener to help with the taste—before setting it on the coffee table next to his mostly untouched soup. The water had been drained from the cup. A good sign that at least Noctis would be hydrated, even if he didn’t feel like eating. 

“Have you called into work?” asked Ignis, remembering Noctis’ evening shift. 

Noctis nodded before clutching his head. “That was dizzying. Can barely talk, can’t nod…”

Ignis slipped the lip balm out of his pocket and applied it. Noctis pulled the old tube out from his pajama pants pocket and held it up.

“I could’ve given it back.”

“I don’t want it now that you’ve used it.”

“But if you use it after me, isn’t it like an indirect kiss?”

Ignis held in a laugh, pressing his lips together. 

“That’s what I think of it as,” said Noctis cheekily as he popped the cap and applied a liberal dose. He puffed out his lips and smacked them together in Ignis’ direction. 

“I don’t want to catch what you have. Please stop stealing it every time you’re sick. I could buy you your own.”

Noctis shook his head. “But when I use yours, it’s an indirect kiss from you to me.”

“I think the cold medicine is getting to your head.”

“Nope. I want you to kiss me.”

A part of Ignis wanted it to be Noctis saying these things, but another part needed it to be the effects of the decongestant making him loopy. But what would be Ignis’ excuse? He wasn’t sick, he hadn’t taken any pills… But he loved the thought of kissing Noctis.

“When you’re feeling better,” promised Ignis, against all conscience. He reached for Noctis’ empty water glass and paused. “Consider it motivation to get well as soon as you can.”

Noctis grinned before his head tilted to the side, eyes closed. “Sleepy,” he murmured.

“Get some rest.” Ignis refilled the glass and set it on the coffee table before he sat down next to Noctis and allowed him to curl up against him. He only hoped he wouldn’t get sick, or he might as well have given the kiss right then and there—and taken back his lip balm.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, a sick fic. I couldn't help it, when I have a conversation with Penguin about whether Ignis uses moisturizers and lip balm. I think he would want to take care of his skin, especially since he's got evidence of acne scarring on his face. So he probably has a skin care regime he follows. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Noctis probably doesn't really think about it, and when he's sick and miserable... This happens.


End file.
